Why?

Why?

Why am I alive?

I sense there is no meaning

I don’t want to die and yet death simply has no meaning for me anymore

I sense a sense of existentialism

Why am I alive?

There is no purpose to me

I have no happiness, no purpose worth living . . .

I look around and life is bleak

Outside the window

The sky is grey there are no clouds

Why am I alive?

I’ve been taught life is a stressful loop

Constantly overwhelemed

N0 breaks . . . no happiness

I’m sorry if it’s bleak

Yet it’s all I can truly be

Why am I alive?

I’m not successful or special

I don’t succeed amazingly at something in particular

I have no special skill

Nothing that recognizes me

I’m not an amazing singer or dancer

I’m not incredibly smart or obedient

I struggle to follow even the most basic of terms

Why am I alive?

I don’t want to hurt myself or anything

I know that, I don’t have any self-harm ideas

But I recognize that

the truth to my question hurts

There is no reason . . .